How long is it since I put finger to keyboard? Months? Actually over 18 months, that’s how long. I did have very good intentions to post an entry on my blog every week but like all ‘good intentions’ it rather fell by the wayside. You know how it is at our age? ‘Things’ come up and . . . you’ve forgotten. I even began to keep a daily diary to remind me what I’d been doing. Needless to say I tidied it away and only found it again last week. Of course, it’s WAY out of date and can I remember what’s gone on the past 18months? Can I heck as like!
Ahhh but then again. . . .
My youngest son Luke returned to the fold at the end of February 2010, fed up with life in England and probably having to fend for himself chez son Dad. He did mention from time to time in the beginning that it was lovely to be home, have his meals cooked for him and clean sheets on his bed every week. Sadly the honeymoon period is well and truly over and like the majority of 19 year old boys, I should imagine, he now takes all these things for granted.
I must admit though, I went through a few agonised weeks before his arrival, seeing as he didn’t have a job to come to and I knew my pitiful wages would and have since struggled to keep us both. Amazingly though living with his Dad for 12 months taught Luke, if nothing else, to get off his backside and go and do something. . . this doesn’t sadly include washing up etc. He duly signed on with the local temping agency and was found short term shift work putting chemical additives into chicken and rabbit food which gave him money in HIS pocket and bright yellow socks.
Mother should mention she’s impressed with change in her son.
In June 2010 he found himself an apprentiship with a local car body repair and painting firm and is working towards a diploma.
Mother doubly impressed by change in her son, even if he still manages to leave the bathroom looking like a whole rugby team has showered in there and dirty socks and underpants under his bed. Oh well I suppose we can’t win them all.
Other changes? Yes.
Bob and I are no longer an ‘item”. I would’ve liked that we remained friends but he has other ideas and at the moment avoids me like the plague. I am becoming quite paranoid.
A couple of months later I had an extremely brief run-in with a man whom I’d known for a while. I did think he was going to turn out to be ‘The One’, Mr Right, my very own Prince Charming for we seemed to have so very much in common but he suddenly decided he wasn’t ready for any sort of relationship having not long broken up with previous girlfriend and backed out like a wasp had stung him in the arse. Of course I was hurt, it’s a bloody big drop down from cloud 9 but I’ve chalked it up to experience like the good Newport High School girl I am and have moved on.
Sadly one of ‘my ladies’ died at the beginning of March, which was a shock as she was diabetic and wheelchair bound, appeared to be in good health. All of us who worked with her were deeply upset. I still go to the house to clean for her husband but it’s not the same without them arguing like cat and dog - it’s too quiet! Although there are times I fancy I can hear her bellowing from the bedroom “What the hell are you saying? I know you’re talking about me!” Needless to say she had very acute hearing and knew exactly what they were saying.
Well I shall be ending here, for the time being, there is more to be written but I feel I’ve probably bored you all enough for today. So I’ll wish you au revoir, until the next time . . . . .
jeudi 16 juin 2011
mercredi 6 janvier 2010
Christmas and beyond
Christmas and New Year – Happy New Year by the way - came and went not with a bang but a whimper, the 3 boys have all been packed back off to the UK so Bob and I can take a sigh of relief and spend the next 3 months getting over it all.
My Christmas was spent working so I flitted in and out, which got me very nicely out of cooking the turkey or any meal in fact but of course it did mean missing out on any alcoholic libations. On the upside though I didn’t have time to indulge in many of the chocolates or other sweet goodies that are on offer so readily at this time of the year so my waistline has remained fairly trim – my skirts don’t feel any tighter than normal anyway.
The 3 boys passed their days lying in front of a roaring fire - so roaring at times that it was necessary either to open the windows or strip off - watching TV and seeing how many bottles of wine and beer it was possible to drink before sinking into a drunken coma and missing the last crucial 10 minutes of Journey to the Centre of the Earth. They went to bed way past midnight and got up way past midday which had Bob, I and the clébards pussy footing around attempting to be quiet in case we woke them. Yes I know I can hear you saying ‘Fat chance!’
We've had snow and Siberian temperatures – still in the grips of - since my last offering here. Okay so I'm exaggerating about the temperatures but it has been pretty damn cold all the same. Cold enough for me be wearing a vest AND 4 other layers and doing a good imitation of the Michelin man. Being fashionable when it comes to cold weather just doesn’t enter into it.
My poor little car, the Paxo, this morning became a victim of the snowy weather. We were coming up to the roundabout in Savigné just by Intermarché when off we went sliding out of control. I did everything I could, foot off the brake, turn into the skid but sadly we hit and mounted the kerb of the roundabout with an almighty thump. I was only going about 30kmph too! I managed to reverse off the roundabout and after examining the car I thought all was okay. However it soon became apparent that every time made a turn the front right tyre rubbed against the wheel arch. I made desperate and hasty phone call to Bob for advice who asked me if the wheel was loose. ‘Loose?’ I repeated. ‘Yes give it a push if it wobbles stay put!’ he ordered. I did and reported it wasn’t. Next question. ‘Is it straight?’ Next reply. ‘Straight? In what way straight?’ Well to cut a long story short it was decided I could head back – carefully – as if I was going to do anything but carefully – and he would come out later to have a look. So I’m now stuck at home, me and the Paxo feeling very sorry for ourselves hoping for a miracle, you know the one where it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg to repair the damage. I also have a letter to write for my boss, like today, in French and in duplicate, to say I had an accident this morning on the way to work. Lucky me.
Well I’m now going off to root through my cupboards to see if I can find some chocolate – apparently it’s ‘good’ for depression. . .
dimanche 6 décembre 2009
Wet Weekend
So okay my wish wasn't granted and it hasn't really stopped raining and my garden is even more like a bog. However the clébards (my dogs) did get their much needed walks over the weekend.
Our Saturday walk was dry but the Sunday walk turned out to be an different story.
After having kept an eye on the weather all morning Bob & I decided to go for it after lunch and walk into the little village of Limalonges, cut down by the cemetry, turn out towards Theil and then back into La Crouzille - a nice leisurely stroll of about an hour.
Of course it wasn't raining when we left, Oskar was straining on his lead and Puddle the Jack Russell was dancing around our legs howling. Bob shouts he can't understand why she 'makes this racket' EVERY time we go out, I yell back at him that it all stems back to her puppyhood when I used to kick a football for her whilst out walking. He says she's got a scew loose somewhere, I tell him she's a Jack Russell.
I must admit as we left the house there was a bit of wind and lots of ominous dark grey clouds scudding across the sky and I suppose we should've known better but I'd been assured in the past that when it's windy it doesn't rain and confidently told this to Bob - right! As we were about to find out what goes in the Vienne isn't necessarily applicable in any other department of France. Bob lives in the Deux-Sevres.
We'd gotten just over halfway when the heavens opened and being on the most exposed part of our walk - no hedge rows/trees - we were, within minutes, well and truely sodden. Jeans plastered to legs, drips on noses, squelchy shoes, the works. Mind you I did discover just how waterproof my black coat isn't.
Trying to be helpful at seeing and hearing Bob's obvious discomfort - well he's a man - he'd not taken a scarf, hat or gloves, I suggested taking a short cut down an old cart track which would've cut at least 10 minutes off our trek. However, he refused point blank on the grounds that he'd recently cleaned his shoes and didn't want to get mud on them. . . At this point I'm making no comment!
We did eventually reach the shelter of home - 10 minutes later than it could've been - and it was oh soooo lovely opening the door on the welcoming heat of the log burner which Bob had thoughtfully stoked up before we left. The clébards were glad to be back too and once released from his harness Oskar shook splattering muddy water all up the walls of the entrance hall before dashing to rearrange their quilt. Something he enjoys doing on a regular basis and which I know annoys Puddle. Being a woman I can sympathise with her on that!
Twenty minutes later Bob and I were dried off, sitting in front of the fire, drinking steaming cups of tea and watching a re-run of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'.
The clébards? Fast asleep on their quilt where else?
Our Saturday walk was dry but the Sunday walk turned out to be an different story.
After having kept an eye on the weather all morning Bob & I decided to go for it after lunch and walk into the little village of Limalonges, cut down by the cemetry, turn out towards Theil and then back into La Crouzille - a nice leisurely stroll of about an hour.
Of course it wasn't raining when we left, Oskar was straining on his lead and Puddle the Jack Russell was dancing around our legs howling. Bob shouts he can't understand why she 'makes this racket' EVERY time we go out, I yell back at him that it all stems back to her puppyhood when I used to kick a football for her whilst out walking. He says she's got a scew loose somewhere, I tell him she's a Jack Russell.
I must admit as we left the house there was a bit of wind and lots of ominous dark grey clouds scudding across the sky and I suppose we should've known better but I'd been assured in the past that when it's windy it doesn't rain and confidently told this to Bob - right! As we were about to find out what goes in the Vienne isn't necessarily applicable in any other department of France. Bob lives in the Deux-Sevres.
We'd gotten just over halfway when the heavens opened and being on the most exposed part of our walk - no hedge rows/trees - we were, within minutes, well and truely sodden. Jeans plastered to legs, drips on noses, squelchy shoes, the works. Mind you I did discover just how waterproof my black coat isn't.
Trying to be helpful at seeing and hearing Bob's obvious discomfort - well he's a man - he'd not taken a scarf, hat or gloves, I suggested taking a short cut down an old cart track which would've cut at least 10 minutes off our trek. However, he refused point blank on the grounds that he'd recently cleaned his shoes and didn't want to get mud on them. . . At this point I'm making no comment!
We did eventually reach the shelter of home - 10 minutes later than it could've been - and it was oh soooo lovely opening the door on the welcoming heat of the log burner which Bob had thoughtfully stoked up before we left. The clébards were glad to be back too and once released from his harness Oskar shook splattering muddy water all up the walls of the entrance hall before dashing to rearrange their quilt. Something he enjoys doing on a regular basis and which I know annoys Puddle. Being a woman I can sympathise with her on that!
Twenty minutes later Bob and I were dried off, sitting in front of the fire, drinking steaming cups of tea and watching a re-run of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'.
The clébards? Fast asleep on their quilt where else?
jeudi 3 décembre 2009
Missing Hotbird!!
Thursday 3rd December
Bob & I spent the whole of Tuesday afternoon 'attempting' to set- up my satelite TV with Orange. First off it took 3 full hours for the decoder to 'update' itself - should've realised at this point that problems were looming - and then finding the satelite Hotbird was just IMPOSSIBLE!! Bob, bless him, was up and down the ladder like a yo-yo. We had the compass out, walked down the road to take a look at the neighbours' dish to see in which general direction it was pointing, even went on-line to get the co-ordinates but Hotbird it seems has flown the coop. Result, we wasted an afternoon and I still have no TV. I suppose my next step will be to give Orange a ring on their Help line, free until actually connected to an assistant, and ask if a Technicien can come out and find this missing bird for me. I suspect this is probably only a ploy by Orange, even though they say in the instruction booklet it's simple to set up your TV by satelite, to wring more money out of us. Anyone would think I'm anti-Orange.
Now would I be?
Since our exploits with satelites and dishes I've worked, it's rained and Bob has spent time at his house. The clébards, my 2 dogs, have become like a couple of dumplings due to the lack of walks due to the rotten weather and my waistline is threatening to spill out over the top of my jeans due to lack of walks. Anyway I've put my order in for some sunshine or at least dry weather but perhaps it's not only Hotbird that's gone mising up there. . .
Bob & I spent the whole of Tuesday afternoon 'attempting' to set- up my satelite TV with Orange. First off it took 3 full hours for the decoder to 'update' itself - should've realised at this point that problems were looming - and then finding the satelite Hotbird was just IMPOSSIBLE!! Bob, bless him, was up and down the ladder like a yo-yo. We had the compass out, walked down the road to take a look at the neighbours' dish to see in which general direction it was pointing, even went on-line to get the co-ordinates but Hotbird it seems has flown the coop. Result, we wasted an afternoon and I still have no TV. I suppose my next step will be to give Orange a ring on their Help line, free until actually connected to an assistant, and ask if a Technicien can come out and find this missing bird for me. I suspect this is probably only a ploy by Orange, even though they say in the instruction booklet it's simple to set up your TV by satelite, to wring more money out of us. Anyone would think I'm anti-Orange.
Now would I be?
Since our exploits with satelites and dishes I've worked, it's rained and Bob has spent time at his house. The clébards, my 2 dogs, have become like a couple of dumplings due to the lack of walks due to the rotten weather and my waistline is threatening to spill out over the top of my jeans due to lack of walks. Anyway I've put my order in for some sunshine or at least dry weather but perhaps it's not only Hotbird that's gone mising up there. . .
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